St Paul Saints and Larry Craig?

This just in via Cousin (yet another reason why she's cooler than we are!).

Lee Badgett Rocks the House: Plays part in CA Nuptuals

A fellow economist and semi-mentor of mine helps the CA same-sex marriage law. See the article here!

Doubting My Ability to Survive Their Childhood

Because every moment is an "opportunity" when you're a parent, I've been (until today) delighted to ride bikes with Eight to school in the morning (her school starts at 7:55 a.m. and it's about 10 blocks away).

This morning, I pointed out her bike, which had been left almost literally at our front door, and said to meet me at the corner (see diagram) as I went through the garage to get my bike.

We had been running out of time to be able to bike because she had a bit of math homework to do before school.

For those of you who don't have school-aged kids yet, you can look forward to helping with math problems (she said facetiously). Eight year olds, being themselves, are literally immune to help due to the fact that they are already in possession of all relevant knowledge. Or any real direction, advice or anything resembling any of the above.

Anyway, I ambled down to the garage (no coffee in my body yet), and reported promptly to the designated meeting location where Eight was nowhere to be seen or heard.

My heart sort of skipped, but I just waited.

And waited.

And waited.

At some point the neighbors across the street pulled out of their garage, heading toward school and, because they were in a car and on their way, I realized that we could be cutting it a bit short, on bikes as we had planned and still, she was nowhere in sight.

I thought, could she have already headed out on her way to school?

Had she taken a "quick" warm-up around the block?

Where in the %$#@& was she???

At some point I see her round the alley.

Me: Where were you?

She: You said to meet at the garage?

Me: Okay, but how did you GET to the garage?

She: Through the backyard and two back gates? They were locked, you know. . .

Me: ??

Me: Um. Why didn't you just come down to the sidwalk and go to the garage?

She: I didn't know there was another way to the garage.

Two Spring Pictures

Yeah CA!

Today's headline: California Supreme Court Overturns Gay Marriage Ban

The Associated Press (my bold):

"The California Supreme Court has overturned a voter-approved ban on gay marriage, paving the way for the state to become the second in the United States where gay and lesbian residents can marry.

The justices released the 403 decision Thursday, saying that domestic partnerships are not a good enough substitute for marriage in an opinion written by Chief Justice Ron George.

Outside the courthouse, gay marriage supporters cried and cheered as news spread of the decision.

In striking down the ban, the court said, 'In contrast to earlier times, our state now recognizes that an individual's capacity to establish a loving and long-term committed relationship with another person and responsibility to care for and raise children does not depend upon the individual's sexual orientation, and, more generally, that an individual's sexual orientation--like a person's race or gender--does not constitute a legitimate basis on which to deny or withhold legal rights.

The cases were brought by the city of San Francisco, two dozen gay and lesbian couples, Equality California and another gay rights group in March 2004 after the court halted San Francisco's monthlong same-sex wedding march that took place at Mayor Gavin Newsom's direction.

'Today the California Supreme Court took a giant leap to ensure that everybody--not just in the state of California, but throughout the country--will have equal treatment under the law,' said City Attorney Dennis Herrera, who argued the case for San Francisco.

Irregular Monthly Newsletter: 29 Months

This newsletter is about a week late, but I'll blame that on you, honey, as you are seriously in the throws of being two.

That and finals and a research deadline and volunteering at your sister's school....

I've finally realized why I'm slowly losing my mind, or at least acquiring a disproportionate amount of gray hair, Big. Basically, if one of us (BioMom or I, or some other caretaker) is not directly watching you, SOMETHING happens. It may be as small as you peeing all over the floor, or picking on the cat, or getting into your sister's paint, or gum stash or, as we regrettably found out a little to late the other night, that you can now open the gates in our backyard on your own (we found you, luckily, moseying down the sidewalk on the little blue Carebear trike that your grandpa gave you -- as opposed to underneath the tire of a moving car, or in the back of some windowless white van accompanied with a ransom request).

You're nearly two-and-a-half years old now and sometimes I look at you and I see this stretched out, tallish-looking KID, and it's really weird. And that's just LOOKING at you. Watching you and listening to you just exaggerates it. You're really competent physically and, well, it's a bit of a relief to me. Just today, I watched you crawl all over a neighbor's backyard jungle-gym-ish sort of thing and, although I watched you carefully, I no longer panic at the thought of you climbing higher than me and possibly falling. I know that you can either handle it, or the fall.

You've started that two-and-a-half year old semi-sensical babble that is so fun to try to decipher. BioMom will ask you about your day and I love to listen to what you remember, what affected you, and what bubbles up from past experiences. Sometimes you'll totally bust me. Yesterday, for example, we ran into Father and Mother of Four (who were, incidentally looking for their ten year old who had gotten off the bus at the wrong stop and was casually making his way back home, despite his own serious homework deadlines and not telling his parents of his plans ahead of time). Father-of-Four commented on my clean car when you started telling them about all of the garbage I put in the back and front seat during my stealth mission to discard of the yard waste that the city hadn't picked up in a month.


Lately, when something is important to you, say, you don't want to share a recent garage-sale purchased truck with your sister, you say "It's for Easter!" emphatically. Other times, people and events will randomly bubble out. My brother just visited for Eight's first communion (!) and you wander around the house saying "Uncle Mike".

You call those windy slides at parks the "Tomato Slide" because you heard someone else call it the "Tornado Slide".

It now takes us nearly 45 minutes to get to the park that is just 4 blocks away. You refuse to ride in the Burly (to my great chagrin as I just got a new mountain bike with my BushII-economic-stimulus package), a wagon, a stroller, or even your own vehicle after a block or so. You get distracted by every dandelion, signpost, anthills in the sidewalk, bird, or blade of grass, and you whine until I carry you on my shoulders, which, has become increasingly difficult as you are as dense as a black hole.

You're really happy. Any tough spots or "tantrums" are really short-lived and usually solved with a little snack or sleep. And although I do like to get stuff done or just read a bit during your naps, I literally run up the stairs to get you when I hear you stirring from your nap.

Mothers Tag Missives

Overheard (already) in the BioMom-Baba-Eight-Big household:

This morning at 6 a.m. by our bedside whispering in my ear: Get up! Let's make Mom breakfast in bed! 'B.I.B.!"

My response: But Mom doesn't appreciate the B!

Her response: But I do!

My response: But you're not "I.B."!

Why isn't there a 'kids day'?

In getting Eight to get moving for her last day of Sunday School (BioMom enjoys going to church): I was thinking that I wouldn't have to rush today. . . That I could have a long breakfast. . . For Mother's day!

Why is it that every time I get you a present, you forget two minutes later and start bossing me around again?

I suppose I subconsciously, or even consciously downplay mother's day. As I've said before, we separate the two days, BioMom getting mother's day and I get father's day (or Baba's day as it is known around here). The kids and I have been giving BioMom a stepping stone with their chubby little hands imprinted on them while the cement was still setting, since 2002 or so, and we usually join with a neighbor or two and have a nice dinner.

But there's no real fanfare around the day in the sense that, I suspect, our Eight, with her penchant for the dramatic, would prefer.

I lost my mom when I was nine.

I certainly think of her today (as I do on most days, I suppose). And yes, I have, on occasion celebrated her more formally, a tree planted in her honor here, a bush or rock placed there.

But there is always this little pang in my heart as BioMom wraps presents for her mom and makes plans for lunch or a run to the Dairy Queen.

And hence the somewhat passive downplaying of the day.

They're at church now (BioMom and Eight). Big just woke up (9:15 a.m.!) and I'm thinking of turning the day around, turning up the fanfare.

The Black One?

The other day Big was riding his little rocket-scooter around the living room when he rode right into one of our cats.

Don't bump into the gray kitty! I said.

The black one? replied he.

If Our Daughter Considered Doing This, We Never Knew

3xCars of the Mini Variety

This actually happened to me tonight. . .

Cousin and I signed up for this summer's St Paul Inline Marathon (the same one in which I beat her by 1 second last time) and, while signing out, I was asked to input this word to verify my account.

I just hope this isn't a harbinger for things to come in the race.

At the Macalester Honor's Reception

So tonight, at the honor's reception for soon-to-be Mac Econ grads, I got roasted.

One of my current Gender and Econ students is head of the Women in Economics group and prattled on a bit about trends of women in the profession and how Macalester is bucking the trend yadda yadda yadda.

She closes with "what I learned from Professor Blogauthor's class"

*grumble grumble grumble* from the audience. . . and then, the following:

1. Don't get married,
2. If you do get married, marry someone beneath your stature in intelligence and income*
3. Certainly don't have kids, and
4. Don't take even a minute off of work because every year you take off, you'll reduce your income by 10%.

SHIT!!! I thought.

I have them read EVERYTHING, as you know, in this class. From Linda Hirshman, to Nancy Folbre, to Lisa Belkin, and Echidne of the Snakes, and believe me, there are some extreme views out there. But folks, extreme or no extreme, the statistics aren't pretty for women out there. We earn 77% of the male dollar on average, we're more likely to be in poverty, less likely to get a graduate degree, more likely to do the vast majority of the housework, and are much more heavily penalized for taking time off of work (regardless of the reason). The wage gap has fallen, but not primarily due to gains for women, rather, due to wage losses for men. And yeah, the gap in household hours has fallen, but not because men are doing more (i.e. a more equal household) but because women are doing less.

Having said that, I do enjoy being a girl.

At the end the professors go around the room giving out their little pearls of wisdom.

Sara West got up and sang, quite eloquently, "don't worry... about a thing.... every little thing's... gonna be alright...."

I got up and, in my nervous banter, started by saying that my student was quite right. . . .

However, in order to live happily-ever-after, they should do what I DO not what I SAY.

As current federal law prohibits #1, I simply can only accomplish three of the four "things to avoid" on the list!


*I recently learned a term for doing the opposite of this: hypergamy!

Stuff White People Like for their Kids: This Just In from Cousin

Okay - so all of us can be as cool as her Cousin has let us in on two new secrets:

#10: The Mighty B: an upcoming Nickelodeon show created by Erik Wiese (previously a storyboard artist and writer on SpongeBob SquarePants), Cynthia True (previously a writer on The Fairly Oddparents) and Amy Poehler (of Saturday Night Live fame). The first episode will premiere on April 26, 2008.

#11: Bare Naked Ladies cd for kids "Snacktime!"

And from my friend Nicole in Chicago:
#12: The Elimination Conversation movement to get babies potty trained (it works!

Stuff White People Like for Their Kids # 9: A Kagillion Self-Indulgent Photos

As in, SHIT my 100 gig hard drive is filling up!!



Here's one for Cousin! Check out Blondie-Blonderton!

Stuff White People Like for their Kids

Okay, here's another spinoff to which all of you need to contribute.

Let me start by saying that I do think that there are various motivations for some of the Stuff White People Like For Their Kids, but my contributions will focus mainly on the level of bourgeois-ness of the item (Cousin, for example, claims to prefer They Might Be Giants not for the *cool-factor* because she hates Raffi. So be it. I will vouch for her that she's cool enough on her own to not need cool crap for her kids). My justification for the TMBG video podcasts is thatI personally can't stand when a bunch of old white guys dance around a video that purports to be for kids. For example, my imagination is definitely not moved watching these guys act like fools on a stage. And while Dan Zanes completely rocks the house, I could do without him in the videos. Let's face it, it just seems a bit self-indulgent (or worse!), to say the least, for anyone over the age of, say 15 to be IN a video for toddlers.

Let me also preface this by noting that it is in alignment with both the original Stuff People Like and (I think) the various spinoffs I've read in that it is quite self-deprecating.

Here's my Starter List for us:
1. Writing corny stories on blogs about the everyday minutia of their kids. Why not just write a diary? Why does it have to be public? If you say its for Grandma, I don't believe you. See, for example, the Irregular Monthly Newsletters on this blog when referring to your child in terms of 'months' past the magic number of 24 is simply preposterous.

2. They Might Be Giants Friday Family Video Podcast

3. Caring about every morsel that goes into our kids' mouths until they head off to school where we freak out and lose control entirely.

4. White People's Worries About Their Kids #1: Is Chocolate Milk the Devil?

5. White People's Worries About Their Kids #2: How much (if any) television?

And from Reader Moira:
6.Robeez My favorite about this Website is that it claims the shoes are the "absolute best shoes for healthy foot development."

7. Baby Style . No need to discuss.

8. Organic Cotton. Note the side benefit here is that the products made from organic cotton will not only be safe for our kids' ingestion (?) but that the cotton is also sustainable! A double whammy!

Irregular Monthly Newsletter: 28 Months

Okay Big, you're 28 Months today!

I still feel a bit strange referring to you in months. It's not like I do that regularly, or in front of mixed company, but I guess in a monthly newsletter, it remains appropriate, somehow.

This month, well, this past weekend has convinced me yet again of the significance of biology in that old nature-nurture saw.

Friday was the first nice day here. What that means in Minnesota in the spring, is that it was the first day that wasn't below 38 degrees since October, but that's another story. Anyway, on such days in early spring, people pour out of their houses on to the sidewalks like honey from a full bottle. It is truly a remarkable thing unlike, I suspect areas like San Diego where people can take nice weather for granted. We were no different than the rest of our neighbors whom we hadn't seen for months, and you were trying out the array of vehicles we've collected for you over the past couple of years. Eight had her bike out and was circling the block and you, unsatisfied with your three-wheeled scooter and no-pedaled bike, borrowed other kids' 'real' scooters and begged to sit on bikes much too large for your little body.

You seemed to have already grown out of the tricycle that you had ridden to the coffee shop that morning with me and your friend Sophia. "Grown out of" implies that you had any ability to ride it in the first place. It is still a bit big for you and as of Friday morning, you were unable to comprehend the art of pedaling, so you would sit on the edge of the seat awkwardly while frantically walking on either side of the middle bar Fred Flinstone-style to put the trike in motion. This for the entire four blocks to the coffee shop, you back made me exhausted just watching (and practically running alongside of you).

At one point on Friday night I went down to our musty garage and dug out Eight's (two-wheeled) scooter and your little bike with training wheels bequeathed to you from Three-of-Four last summer.

This is literally the smallest bike I've ever seen. We never even purchased such a small bike for Eight as she had no interest until she was a bit older. Her entry-bike was a size up.

You flipped for this bike. By bed time, BioMom had spent about 40 minutes talking with you about how pedaling works, and how to use your leg muscles to get the pedals around.

We had a bit of time on Saturday morning, and the weather was still quite nice, so when I asked if you wanted to go ride your bike, it was all I could do to get your diaper on before you were out the door (you now know how to open the doors and even unlock them if necessary, which has truly changed the game around here for us as you ALWAYS want to be outside, but are still unawares of the rules of the road vis a vis cars.).

After an hour or so you were starting to get pedaling down and could actually get the bike to move for two or three lengths of sidewalk blocks (about 12 feet).

Sunday it poured. You kept asking to go outside to ride your bike, but I emphasized the rain and diverted your attention. After your nap, however, you wouldn't take 'No' for an answer and since Eight was interested in riding (I encourage her to do anything physical and would allow her to ride her bike in weather that would frighten a mail carrier if she showed a sliver of interest) we all headed out, rain gear and helmets in tow. By this time (literally 48 hours after your first tentative pushes on the pedal) you had it down. You pedaled that little bike around the entire block. . . TWICE! Beeping your little horn and pushing your way up the minuscule hills in the sidewalks.

By Tuesday, you had me chasing after you (you still don't have the breaking part down, nor are you aware of where the sidewalk ends) and I am quite positive that you traveled the equivalent of an entire mile. I'm thinking of signing up for a marathon this fall as I'll be inadvertently training for one by chasing after you all summer.

Other reports from the past month:
*Recently you've begun to refer to yourself as "Ponce" which none of us know from where this moniker came or what it means.
*When BioMom asks you for 'hugs and kisses' you'll often refuse, go on about your business, and then turn around and say 'Okay. . . I'll give you some hugs and kisses.'
*One recent phrase of yours: "That's the coolest truck I've ever seen!"
*You are incredibly social (much more of an extrovert than I) and always want to know :"him name?"
*You are still a devoted vegetarian.

We love you Sweetpea!

Stuff Lesbians Like #6: Blogs about Stuff Lesbians Like

Or maybe not.

It looks like I may have ruffled a few bloggers over at the original Stuff Lesbians Like blog.

My apologies.

The copy-cat site (from Stuff White People Like) was too attractive to me to ignore as I so enjoy making fun of my own and I didn't do a Google search for other sites before my first post. Alas.

To all those readers out there (all 5 of you!) know that I defer to Grace on the Spot as the Purveyor of Knowledge of All Things Lesbian and that my contributions here are simply in the spirit of having fun.

Stuff Lesbians Like #5: Keens

Then there's that joke about only wearing comfortable shoes. . . . Keens offer comfort AND style and are a necessary element of any good lesbian's wardrobe.

My own story about wearing comfortable shoes is from a colleague and friend of mine. At the interview for my current job I practically harassed an African man in the group of interviewers about how he perceived life in the small Midwest town in which the university was located. I guess I was just trying to get a feel for how a minority dealt with the life that the city offered. The (now) colleague/friend of mine told me later that he recognized immediately what I was doing and brought this up to the department later during their discussion of the candidates. He worried that I wouldn't want to live in the small town as a lesbian. The rest of the department was appalled that he would make such an assumption. He replied something to the effect that he was certain of my sexuality/sexual-orientation because of my 'comfortable shoes' in the interview!

By the way, they were not, in fact, Keens.

Part Time Professor

And full-time friend.
The monkey OFF my back is my latest trend....

So they approved of my part-time proposal (one semester per year) (continguent of course on some funding)!

Stuff Lesbians Like #4: Shopping for Sperm Online

Ever heard that saying "women need men like fish need bicycles"?

Well, now you're just a click away from having sperm delivered to your door (or your clinic's door), no mess, no fuss, no wetspots.

Despite the fact that national surveys like the General Social Survey (GSS) report that GLBT people are just as likely to have children as their heterosexual counterparts (mainly through dissolved marriages), the phenomenon coined the "Lesbian Baby Boom" is relatively new, perhaps only 15 or 20 years old(Arnup 1998, and later expanded upon by Tulchinsky, 1999 and Patterson, 1995).

As an aside the National Longitudinal Lesbian Family Study is the only national data of which I am aware that covers children of lesbian parents over a period of time.

Lesbian couples who wish to get pregnant and have a baby (i.e. not through adoption or a previous marriage) acquire sperm through various sources. These breakdown into two main categories: known and unknown donors. Some couples know the male donor and establish an arrangement (legal or otherwise) with him regarding both procurement as well as the potential offspring (for a great story turn to LesbianDad and her post on the "turkey baster"). Other couples who do not have access to a willing donor, or who do not want to use a known donor, can go to what is colloquially known as a "sperm bank" to purchase sperm (note that sperm banks are also frequented by heterosexual couples who have trouble conceiving).

We've come a long way from the turkey baster! With the advent of the Information Age, sperm banks have moved to Internet portals from which interested individuals can sort and select donors from a wide variety of ethnic and racial backgrounds. Furthermore, in addition to (some) physical details, information is provided about adult interests of the donor, family medical history, blood type, etc.

Arnup, K. 1999 "Does the word LESBIAN mean anything to you?" Lesbians raising daughters. In S. Abbey & A. O'Reilly (Eds.), Redefining Motherhood: Changing identities and patterns (pp. 59-68). Toronto: Second Story Press.

Patterson, C. J. 1995. Lesbian Mothers, gay fathers, and their children. In A. R. D'Augelli & C. J. Patterson (Eds.), Lesbian, gay, and bisexual identities over the lifespan (pp. 262-292). New York: Oxford University Press.

Tulchinsky, K. X. (1999, May 8). Two moms, better than one? Staking claim to Mother's Day: Once we decided which one of us would bear the child, our little family adventure was underway. Vancouver Sun, pp. E5.